Right now I’m in the mood for something slow – a love making that takes place over days and days. Tantrically unhurried and unrushed. Kissing every nook, cranny and crevice, exploring everything. You’re lying on your stomach, dick aching under you while my mouth covers the territory of your legs. Working up, it’s a laboriously slow process but after decades I reach your ass. I kiss it. Playful kisses on both cheeks, interchanging lips with tongue and teeth. You know where this is going. I need to know everything, explore everywhere, have you every way.

Parting your cheeks, my mouth ventures along your crack. I’m in no rush and I feel the tension of your body beneath my own, butt muscles flexing. Reaching that small puckered opening, my face nuzzled between your cheeks, I want inside you. I kiss the hole directly, my lips surrounding it, then frenching in. I’m making out, licking, twisting my tongue inside your butt. You’re everywhere. You obstruct my vision and all that’s left is the scent and taste of you. I probe deeper, my tongue delving, caressing. The tongue fuck is maddeningly slow. A teasingly protracted quickening of movement. The ticklish wet feel of my tongue sliding in and out of you, making you thrust your ass up and down in time with me. I poke into you fully and remain perfectly still buried inside your ass for a moment before withdrawing. You turn onto your side, looking back at me. I can see the veined yearning of your cock, shining with juice. I want that too and I’m no longer in the mood for something slow.

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